


Day Dreams

by rosewell893



Series: Separation [2]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt, M/M, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25800442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewell893/pseuds/rosewell893
Summary: After leaving the mansion, Guillermo begins having unexplainable afternoon dreams.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Series: Separation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873246
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	1. Reflection

Guillermo stood over the side of his old bed, preparing to unpack his belongings from the hastily-loaded duffel bag and travel suitcase that rested on it. Of all the places the ex-familiar pictured himself being in eleven years, returning to his childhood home for an escape from his recently-discovered vampire slaying tendencies was not one of them.

His mother, Silvia, had been a sight for sore and unappreciated eyes, as his insides would warm and tingle at every small touch or the way her face would light up every time he walked into the room. He had fallen out of familiarity with such treatment after spending a little more than a decade of his life as a servant to four distant vampires, and found that he missed such treatment more than he'd previously thought he did.

The house he'd lived in throughout his childhood and adolescence hadn't changed much at all, and neither did the small bedroom he resided in for most of it. The same small bed still rested beside the same tan-colored wall that the same Interview With the Vampire poster was tacked on to, and the same metal nightstand still supported the same white table lamp, as if this one tiny room in the ever-bustling apartment building had remained untouched and frozen in time since he first left in 2009.

Looking at the poster reminded him of the early days when he was still full of youthful optimism and certainty, certainty that Guillermo de la Cruz, like his idol, Armand, would become a vampire and be together forever with his Adonis vampire lover. A dream that at certain times in his life, seemed to inch forward within his reach, but in the blink of an eye would be snatched away from him, and in turn, chipped away at his sanity over the years. Even more so after the discovery of his Van Helsing bloodline, and newfound vampire slayer abilities, which threatened his composure and made him question the safety of those around him, which was precisely why he was here.

His inner thoughts were cut short by the soft creaking sound of an opening door that caught him off guard and jerked him back to the present moment. Who he saw when he turned his head towards the intruding sound was his mother, who dawned a small and ever-friendly smile as she looked upon him.

"Guillermo, la cena està lista."

Guillermo returned the smile as he gave his mother an acknowledging nod. "De acuerdo, saldré en un segundo."

At this, Silvia's smile widened very slightly in response. She closed the bedroom door, leaving Guillermo standing alone in front of his suitcases that still layed on his bed, stuffed to the seams.


	2. Hidden Troubles

On what his feet touched, he knew not. 

Nor did he know how he came to be here. 

The vast black space around him seemed to be dark and distant enough to make his head hurt. 

The only other piece of existence he could sense in his vicinity was the outline of a long, rectangular, alter-like structure.

He decided to reach out for it.

As he attempted to lift his arm, he jolted forward. This didn't knock him down, nor make any muscle in his body move in any way. Though he had definitely moved.

Every time he attempted to move on his own, the force that held him would push him that much closer to the altar. Closer. Closer. Until he faced the side of it.

He was curious about this large object. Upon closer inspection, he could make out what looked to be a wooden texture on the top of it.

A sound came from within the object. A voice. A strangled voice.

Several small strangled shouts.

The altar then began to rustle.

This startled him. The phantom that guided him didn't jump back.

Then the shadow men appeared. Dark figures that drifted ever closer to the coffin.

As they got closer, Guillermo got pushed away.

He felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him as the figures encircled the coffin. He didn't know why. It was merely a poorly-lit outline in the darkness.

Then the object burst into flames, and the shadow men disappeared.

He tried to move forward. He couldn't. Whatever forces that moved him now kept him at bay.

Or so it seemed.

He only noticed his tight grip on the curtain that had once shielded the object from the alarmingly bright beam of light that shone from behind it just before that shrill mechanical noise jolted him into reality like a bullet to the chest.

Guillermo nearly jumped off the couch he had been napping on, his heart beating like a horde of buffalo. His breathing was heavy and frantic, and his glasses weren't on his face, as the living room was merely a fuzzy blur of colors.

"Guillermo?" Silvia called from her bedroom, "¿Estás bien?"

His mother's voice helped calm his firing nerves and bring him closer to reality. 

"¡Sí, mamá!" Guillermo responded back, raising his voice. "¡Estoy bien!"

He now recognized the sound that ripped him back to the real world. The washer's timer had went off.

With help from the right arm of the sofa, he returned to his previous spot on the sofa and put his head in his hands. The room spun around him due to his body trying to catch up with his mind that remained jittery from his sudden awakening.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and took a deep breath, which slowed the spinning down enough for him to function. The first thing he needed to find out was where his glasses fled to so he could actually register his surroundings.

His first place to search was the coffee table in front of him, and thankfully enough, that was where they rested, safe and sound. The lenses cleared the blinding blur that engulfed his vision, and helped calm him down that much more. He was in their apartment, away from the darkness. He was in control again.

Amidst his inner thoughts, he hadn't noticed that his mother had made her way into the living room to check up on him, her big dark eyes staring into him.

"¿Tuviste una pesadilla?" she asked softly, as if speaking to a frightened puppy.

Guillermo looked at her with as much of a smile as his faltering facial muscles could muster, but the tinge of distress in his eyes only amplified the already concerned one in hers.

"No," he tried to reassure her, however unsuccessfully, "me caí del sofá mientras dormía. Es todo."

She looked over him with a mixed expression, one that showcased the need she felt to comfort him until he felt better and another that struggled to give him the space he needed to deal with whatever he was hiding from her, that he begged for with his eyes behind the pleasant facade.

Silvia inhaled slowly, and as the breath filled her lungs, so melted the worried expression from her face that was replaced with her usual friendly smile. The sudden change in emotion on his mother's face helped Guillermo relax the tension he felt in his shoulders at his dishonesty. A vulnerable part of him wanted to tell her all of his troubles, but another part of him that he had developed over the years told him to hold his feelings in and let them out somewhere where no one would be bothered.

"¡Oh!" Sylvia chimed, turning her attention towards the television, clearly trying to change the subject, "Detuve tu película por ti porque te quedaste dormido," she explained while pointing at the screen. 

Guillermo glanced at the television. He had been rewatching Interview With the Vampire for the first time in eleven years, and the still frame that graced the screen was of Louis de Pointe du Lac staring off into the distance, looking particularly depressed.

He gave a warm smile as he returned his attention towards his mother, who looked pleased with her thoughtful action.

"Gracias, mamá."

Silvia's eyes twinkled warmly in return as she responded, "De nada, nene."

They held the gaze for a few short seconds before she cut the exchange short with a swift stride into the hallway, retrieving the blue laundry basket and returning to the living room.

"¿Podrías ayudarme con la lavandería antes de empezar tu película de nuevo?" she asked, motioning towards the hallway with a toss of her head.

Guillermo gave a nod and stood up from the couch. "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Spanish knowledge is only, like, novice-level, so forgive me if the Spanish isn't accurate. I consulted professor Google Translate.


	3. Long Road Ahead

  
Guillermo sat awake on the couch, his tears making a tiny puddle in the hands that cupped his own face. This had been another afternoon of weird, trippy dreams of unknown cause that left his heart racing and his face and chest soaked with sweat. On days like this, he would usually just wait out the near heart attack while drinking from a bottle of water and pulling his best poker face, but today's dream had been unsettling enough to bring him to tears in his sleep. Through the graces of God, his already concerned mother wasn't around to see it.

Every time he would appear in the dreams, it was as if he were watching himself in first and third person at the same time. His actions were and weren't his own, and with every new dream came a new way to torture the poor soul that resided inside of the altar-like structure of his mind's creation. He never knew the identity of the person who laid inside of it.

Until today.

He was once again beside the altar, but this time the altar was hovering in mid air over a pool of sorts. Before he knew it, a figure fell through the bottom of the altar and into the water, setting the entire pit aflame. The light from the fire lit the figure's features into visibility as he writhed and screamed in sheer agony.

It was Nandor. It had been Nandor this whole time.

The thought made another lump rise in his throat, which he attempted to subdue with another swig of Dasani. He had to pull himself together. It was just a dream. They were all just dreams. It didn't actually happen. Nandor and the others were perfectly fine on their own, especially his former master, as he had been a warlord for decades and slept surrounded by blades of all kinds every day. As little as this helped to calm him down at first, the next scenario that crossed his paranoid mind only wracked it futher with anxiety. Nandor was surrounded by blades. That the assassins could use to murder him with in his sleep. Every protective bone in his body screamed at him to go back to that mansion.

Guillermo scorned at himself. He couldn't just go back to the mansion. Not after nearly losing his self-restraint and beheading Laszlo right there in the Fancy Room. If the documentary crew hadn't have been filming him that day, Nadja may have been a widow right now. That was one of the main reasons why he was here and not there, so he wouldn't hurt anyone.

Guillermo wiped his tear-covered palms against the wrists of his sweater, then used the collar of said sweater to wipe the wetness from his eyes. He closed them and took a long, deep, yet shaky breath, trying to push down and soothe the ever-aching lump in his throat. He had to pull himself together. However much he wanted to be there and protect them, however much he missed their company, he had to stay away. It would take a lot of work on his part, but that was what he was used to. He already made it this far. He had to get through this. 

It would be the end of him and his friends if he didn't.


End file.
